Haitian Bisexuality Ch 05

My name is Franklin Reginald. A tall, good-looking, forty-something black man of Haitian descent living in rural Georgia. In the good old U.S. of A. Like many men in this world, I work very hard to make a living. And if there's something which I absolutely cannot stand, it's those people who don't respect the hard work of others. Or worse, those who take them for granted. The Powers That Be. The big Decision Makers in business, law, education, health care, government and the armed forces. These unappreciative men and especially women who fall in that category make my skin crawl. The fact that I am sexually attracted to both men and women who fit this bill irks me even more.

Oh, on the subject of working women, don't get it twisted. I know that plenty of females out there work just as hard as the most driven of men. I'm not talking about these ladies. I've got nothing but respect for them. What I'm talking about are the laziest hussies out there. Those who are content to take credit for work done by others and move up in the ranks through treachery and manipulation rather than hard work and dedication. You know they exist. Don't deny it. They get on my blasted nerves. That's why I love to administer to them the punishment I know they justly deserve. What I provide is a form of community service, if you will. I teach them discipline, appreciation and release. Follow me around a bit and I will tell you all about it.

The first thing I did was find me some participants in this little experiment. Thanks to the Internet, they were not hard to find. In this age of girl power and all that, some women are tired of having their asses kissed not only by their boyfriends and husbands but also by society in general. These women long for a bygone age when men were real men. These females might not admit it but they love being dominated. The more powerful they are, the sicker their domination fantasies. Want to see what kind of woman loves having a man totally control her? Look no further than female athletes, female police officers and female business leaders. They're the biggest freaks of all. Trust me, I know.

Today's experiment involves me taking a certain white female CEO on a tour. This woman wants to let go of the reins of power and be put in her place. A man has to be at the top of his game to dominate this one. She could sniff out a fake macho man faster than a shark could smell blood in the ocean. That's more than okay by me because I am the real deal. For starters, I actually look the part. At six feet eight inches tall and two hundred and eighty pounds, I definitely cut an imposing figure. And I know how to use my size, strength and most importantly my brilliantly twisted mind to establish utter domination on the willing women who come to me.

Presently, Amber & Drake Pharmaceuticals CEO Janice Brownstone was suspended upside down. All six feet two inches and two hundred and twenty eight pounds of her. Thick chains attached to the sturdy oak ceiling held her fixed in this position. Why is this woman hanging upside down? I assure you that it's of her own free will and also because it's exactly what she needs. In her day job, Janice Brownstone has the power to affect and control the lives of thousands of people across the globe. The myriad employees of her company look to her for leadership. The company's owners and shareholders examine her every move and watch her daily performance as well as that of her colleagues and underlings with the eyes of a hawk. She lives in a fast-paced, cutthroat world. A world in which she is one of the decision makers. A member of the Powers That Be. Here in my domain, she is the powerless. I hold all the power. She always wanted to know what that would be like. For someone else to hold all power over here. Well, today is her lucky day.

I stood there, leaning against the wall, arms folded across my chest. I like to give my slaves a good long look at me. It never ceases to amaze them. For the occasion, I wore a black T-shirt, black leather pants and a necklace made of ivory. Janice Brownstone couldn't take her eyes off me. With her hands tied behind her back and her legs hanging from the ceiling, she wasn't going anywhere. Janice Brown's long blonde hair was covered with sweat, as was the rest of her supple, bodacious form. Her skin was a sickly alabaster color. I endeavored to change that. So, I produced my favorite toy to remediate the situation. What is my favorite toy, or should I say instrument? My eight-foot-long, two-inch thick black leather whip. It ended in a spiked ball made of thick rubber. I held it to my face, and gently kissed it, as I would an old friend. Truth be told, my whip was an old friend. Janice Brownstone watched me. I smiled. Then, I took two feathers from my cap. I began rubbing the feathers up and down on Janice Brownstone's face. She sneezed, and said it was ticklish. I grinned. That's good. Tickling her was exactly what I wanted. It's far more subtle than the whip and infinitely more wicked.

I moved the feathers from Janice Brownstone's face down to her neck, and she trembled under the gentleness, and viciousness, of their touch. I moved from her neck to her armpits, and thoroughly tickled her. Tickling isn't most people's idea of torture. That's because they've never been subjected to it. Through tickling I've broken down women who have withstood various other forms of persuasion. It's that potent. I moved from Janice's armpits to her chest, and played with her nipples. She sighed, clearly liking it. I grasped her tits in my hands and squeezed them. Hard. They say that squeezing a woman's tits as hard as you can will produce the same effect as squeezing a man's balls. Well, today I was testing that theory. As I squeezed Janice's tits as hard as I could, I watched her face. Her pretty face was flushed. She turned red, then purple. For a moment or two, it looked like she couldn't breathe. I continued what I was doing. Before the fun and games began, Janice and I agreed on a safe word. Or two. All she had to do was say "I give". And her torment would be over.

But she refused to surrender. We've got a live one here, folks! So I moved onto bigger and better things. As Janice's legs were already spread, I had no problem prying her pussy lips wide open. And I began tickling her clit with the feathers. I must give her some credit. She tried holding on. For a full sixty seconds. Then she howled. I smiled. I always win. I tortured Janice's super sensitive clit by gently rubbing the feathers against it, and waves of pleasure mixed with denial coursed through her. She would have killed to rub her pussy with her hands right now. I knew it. I could see it in her eyes. But I wouldn't allow it. That's why her hands were bound behind her back. Am I good or what?

Next, I took out what I called the big guns. I took three super-sized automated dildos from a nearby table. And proceeded to insert them in Janice Brown's holes. The first one was ten inches long and I pushed it into her mouth after prying her lips open. I made sure it filled her mouth nice and snug. I wanted her silenced before I moved onto the main event. I dipped the remaining two dildos into vats of lubrication. Janice's eyes widened. She wanted to shout but the dildo muffled her cries. I saw the terror in her eyes. It pleased me like you would not believe. Now, this is where I get to have fun.

Over the next few minutes, I patiently and thoroughly pushed each of the twelve-inch dildos into Janice Brownstone's holes. One in her pussy and one up her asshole. Slowly but surely, I worked them inside her. She squirmed. She thrashed about wildly. She struggled in her bonds. But the thick Titanium chains would have held a bear or a lion. They were more than a match for this trapped corporate Amazon. I worked about eighty percent of each dildo into each of Janice's holes. Until she was finally filled. Then, like any good artist worth the name, I took a step back and admired my handiwork.

Then I produced my other favorite toy. A remote control which held mastery over the dildos. I pressed the little red button, and the super-sized dildos began to vibrate inside Janice's pussy and asshole. The corporate Amazon squirmed and thrashed about, trying to break free of her bonds. But it was all to no avail. Those chains were a match for her strength. I watched her struggle. I saw her pain. And yes, I saw her pleasure. For she did enjoy it. Immensely. I saw it in her eyes. Oh, well. That's more like it. Time to crack the whip. And crack it I did.

Hey, you didn't think I took it out for nothing did you? Janice Brownstone's eyes widened like saucers when she saw the whip. I smiled wickedly, and lashed out with it. The whip fell across the captive woman's body and the echo was like thunder. When it struck her, she thrashed about wildly. Where the whip had struck her, a beautiful red mark, over ten inches long, lay in perfect symmetry. I smiled, and repeated the experience. I got into a real frenzy, whipping her in the face, the chest, the hips, the legs and the ass. I spared not an inch of her. She tried to scream, but the giant dildo was a very effective gag. And so I rained blows of the whip upon my captive Amazon.

Every crack of the whip was a thrust in the name of avenging wounded manhood. Every strike was a blow of vengeance, of masculine retaliation in this episode of the battle of the sexes. I was merciless. I beat her senseless. Every strike was justifiable in my mind. For they were done in the name of righteous vengeance. I thought of every woman I'd ever met who had been wicked, manipulative, mean-spirited, cruel or just downright bitchy. I wanted to make them pay. And Janice Brownstone had willingly provided me the vessel through which to do that. She wanted the pain, and I had a lot of it to give her. And I must tell you, I really liked it. I whipped her face, leaving nice red marks on both cheeks. I whipped her ass so much it turned a bright red hue. And through it all, I found myself incredibly aroused. Like you would not believe. It was awesome. So much that I paused long enough to take out my cock. My nine-inch-long, uncircumcised black dick. I stroked it before Janice Brownstone's amazed eyes. With one hand, I masturbated. With the other, I wielded the whip and whipped her senseless. If Janice could have screamed, she would have. Her eyes pleaded me. But her body could take a lot more so I gave her more. Until I saw surrender in her eyes. It turned me on so much that I came right then and there. Shot my cum clear across the room. Some of it landed on her, the rest hit the wall. It was glorious.

A few minutes later, I unbound Janice Brownstone. She was most grateful, and quite happy with our session. You see, she's a masochist and I'm a sadist. She is one of those people who love pain. And I am one of those people who love inflicting pain. In some basic way, we needed each other. I led her to the shower, and let her do her thing. An hour later she was gone. She was driving back to Atlanta with a smile on her face. I waved her goodbye. And to tell you the truth, I was quite happy too. I don't do this for the money. I do this because I must.